Immature Artist

"When I was asked to make a print to benefit Lincoln Center I was both honored and intimidated. I was reminded of my moving to New York City in 1997. My student loans had yet to kick in and I was so broke that I really couldn’t afford much of a night on the town. So instead, as an alternative, I’d meet friends outside of Lincoln Center. There we’d spend a few hours socializing and drinking alongside the lights, on marble steps and by the fountain. I always remember that time.

"When I begin to make a work of art I begin with the concept. I play word games and I try to loosen up my associations and assumptions. I make visual and verbal connections. Sometimes these are very personal and frustratingly obscure and sometimes more public. In this case I got stuck on cheese. Why cheese? I remember noticing when I moved to New York that people in New York (at least in the art world) loved cheese. Whatever the event or occasion there it was. And someone was always explaining what he or she liked about this or that particular cheese. I’m a natural mimic and so I paid attention, it comes from moving around a lot. From being the 'new kid.' So I kept mental notes on what was 'good' and more importantly what was 'bad.' You can tell a lot about a person by their opinions on cheese. (The truth is I’m not a huge fan of cheese. I believe I have a lactose intolerance.) So all this is to say in my mind it’s forever linked with connoisseurship and culture. I know these days things have changed. But much of my art concerns itself with outdated notions of 'fancy.' The status symbols of the past I knew when it felt like it mattered. I’m aware that my insecurities are what drove me forward. But that’s one way to learn. You could say the print is of artisanal cheeses—aspirational cheeses.

"And then there’s the fun part—adding the text. Which is like my last word on the my artwork; the punch line—the commentary—the poetry. I had a number of ideas but I went with this one—Immature, Artist. Because artists take time. And some of us need reminding."

-Matthew Brannon, December 1, 2012